Finnegans Wake - James Joyce [255]
Hennu! Spake ab laut!
— Couch, cortege, ringbarrow, dungcairn. Beseek the runes and see the longurn! Allmaun away when you hear the ganghorn. And meet Nautsen. Ess Ess. O ess. Warum night! Con— ning two lay payees. Norsker. Her raven flag was out, the slaver. I trow pon good, jordan’s scaper, good’s barnet and trustyman. Crouch low, you pigeons three ! Say, call that girl with the tan tress awn! Call Wolfhound! Wolf of the sea. Folchu! Folchu !
— Very good now. That folklore’s straight from the ass his mouth. I will crusade on with the parent ship, weather prophetting, far away from those green hills, a station, Ireton tells me, bonofide for keeltappers, now to come to the midnight middy on this levantine ponenter. From Daneland sailed the oxeyed man, now mark well what I say.
— Magnus Spadebeard, korsets krosser, welsher perfyddye. A destroyer in our port. Signed to me with his baling scoop. Laid bare his breastpaps to give suck, to suckle me. Ecce Hagios Chrisman !
— Oh, Jeyses, fluid! says the poisoned well. Futtfishy the First. Hootchcopper’s enkel at the navel manuvres!
— Hep! Hello there, Bill of old Bailey! Whu’s he? Whu’s this lad, why the pups?
— Hunkalus Childared Easterheld. It’s his lost chance, Emania Ware him well.
— Hey! Did you dream you were ating your own tripe, acushla, that you tied yourself up that wrynecky fix?
— I see now. We move in the beast circuls. Grimbarb and pancercrucer!
You took the words out of my mouth. A child’s dread for a dragon vicefather. Hillcloud encompass us! You mean you lived as milky at their lyceum, couard, while you learned, volp volp, to howl yourself wolfwise. Dyb! Dyb! Do your best.
— I am dob dob dobbling like old Booth’s, courteous. The cubs are after me, it zeebs, the whole totem pack, vuk vuk and vuk vuk to them, for Robinson’s shield.
— Scents and gouspils! The animal jangs again! Find the fingall harriers!
Here howl me wiseacre’s hat till I die of the milkman’s lupus!
file:///E|/Books/Top%20100%20Novels%20list/Finnegans%20Wake/complete.html[9/12/2007 12:21:58 PM]
Finnegans Wake, by James Joyce
— What? Wolfgang? Whoah! Talk very slowe!
— Hail him heathen, heal him holystone!
Courser, Recourser, Changechild .............. Eld es endall, earth .....................?
— A cataleptic mithyphallic! Was this Totem Fulcrum Est Ancestor yu hald in Dies Eirae where no spider webbeth or Anno Mundi ere bawds plied in Skiffstrait? Be fair, Chris!
— Dream. Ona nonday I sleep. I dreamt of a somday. Of a wonday I shall wake. Ah! May he have now of here fearfilled me! Sinflowed, O sinflowed!
Fia! Fia! Befurcht christ!
— I have your tristich now; it recurs in three times the same differently (there is such a fui fui story which obtains of him): comming nown from the asphalt to the concrete, from the human historic brute, Finnsen Faynean, occeanyclived, to this same vulganized hillsir from yours, Mr Tupling Toun of Morning de Heights, with his lavast flow and his rambling undergroands, would he reoccur Ad Horam, as old Romeo Rogers, in city or county, and your sure ob, or by, with or from an urb, of you know the differenciabus, as brauchbarred in apabhramsa, sierrah !
We speak of Gun, the farther. And in the locative. Bap! Bap!
— Ouer Tad, Hellig Babbau, whom certayn orbits assertant re humeplace of Chivitats Ei, Smithwick, Rhonnda, Kaledon, Salem (Mass), Childers, Argos and Duthless. Well, I am advised he might in a sense be both nevertheless, every at man like myself, suffix it to say, Abrahamsk and Brookbear! By him it was done bapka, by me it was gone into, to whom it will beblive, Mushame, Mushame ! I am afraid you could not heave ahore one of your own old stepstones, barnabarnabarn, over a stumbledown wall here in Huddlestown to this classic Noctuber night but itandthey woule binge, much as vecious, off the dosshouse back of a racerider in his